


Why won't you listen to me

by Shaish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:59:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't know what this is. I accidentally opened Zen Writer and then the music on there started playing and the background picture had water and I don't know.<br/>Can be read as gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why won't you listen to me

"Why won't you listen to me?!" 

The sound of his trench coat snapping with the force of the wind is harsh against his ears as the rain spatters all over the metal roofing on the shack behind him; the only thing louder is the sound of the blood pumping in his ears and the staccato rhythm of his breath near in time with his furiously beating heart.

"Because, I already know the answer." It's quiet when it comes, almost too quiet in the flurry of sounds, almost drowned out by the chaos of nature all around them. There's water in his boots, his socks, his clothes are soaked through and he can feel it all the way down to his bones. There's a hole forming there, in the center of his chest, somehow it's even colder than the rain pouring down on them.

"But.." and he should say something, not just anything will do and they both know it, it has to be something with meaning, something that will get past the rain and the growing chasm rapidly developing between them, but for the life of him he can't think of anything, and the only thing that comes out is, " _Cas_.." The hole is getting bigger, darker, colder, or maybe it was there the whole time and he just hadn't noticed it until now. That would be his luck, wouldn't it.

He glances over his shoulder, just once, and there's so much in his stolen blue eyes that it punches what air he had left out of his lungs; and then he's gone, in a beat of wings that cuts off the sound of the raging wind, the falling rain, the pounding heartbeat and breaths in his ears; the hole swallows him.

All that's left is the silence and the tears on his face washed away by the rain.

He hadn't realized, the whole time, Heaven was crying, too.


End file.
